Nemesis: Because I Want You - 13. Chapter Thirteen: Something Rotten

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Something Rotten

The following Monday, Nick returned to school. Dave saw him briefly in passing when he arrived and tried to give him an encouraging smile, but they had no lessons together that morning.

Dave, Chas, Alan, and Matt ate lunch together, as had become customary, and afterwards, they strolled out into the courtyard. Dave was keeping an eye out for Nick when Alan elbowed him in the ribs to get his attention.

‘So, is it true?’ asked Alan.

‘Is what true?’ Dave looked at him, confused. He hadn’t been paying attention to the conversation at all.

‘Weren’t you listening? That Davis’s mum tried to kill herself, of course!’

Dave stared at him for a moment. How had he found out? Some teacher blabbing in the teacher’s lounge, no doubt. How did these things always have a way of reaching the student body sooner rather than later?

‘How the hell should I know?’ said Dave with a quirk of his eyebrow.

‘You just always seem to know, when it’s about him,’ said Alan, shrugging. ‘Never mind, there he is, I’ll ask him myself!’

Dave blinked. ‘What? No!’

‘Hey, Davis!’ Alan called. ‘Is it true ’bout your mum? She really slit her wrists?’

Dave stared for a moment, disbelieving. Was Alan actually saying this?

Nick resolutely kept his eyes on the ground before him and kept walking past. Alan tried again. ‘Oi! Davis! I’m talking to you!’

‘Alan, come on, leave him be,’ said Dave weakly.

Alan ignored him. ‘Hey! Answer me! God, you’re pathetic. No wonder she tried to off herself.’

A deathly silence fell around them then. Everyone who had been close enough to hear what had been said stared at Alan in utter shock and disbelief. And then Dave was filled with a rage, more potent than anything he’d ever felt before. His body shook with it, and anger and disappointment flooded him until he didn’t know which was which anymore. This was Alan. This was his best friend! How could he say something like that? Dave knew he was a bully. Alan had always been a bully. But this—this was beyond his regular schoolyard tactics. Alan had crossed a line, and everyone seemed to see it, except for Alan himself.

If ever there had been a time for Dave to speak up on Nick’s behalf, secrecy be damned, it was now, and he opened his mouth to do so, but to his astonishment, Matt beat him to it. ‘That is well out of order!’ he growled, hands balled into fists, a dark expression on his face.

‘What?’ said Alan, staring incredulously at him.

‘Yeah, Alan, that is not fucking okay,’ Dave managed lamely.

‘Yeah, man, it’s not cool,’ Chas echoed, surprising Dave most of all with the sincerity in his voice.

‘Come on, you guys, this is Davis!’ said Alan.

At last, Dave found his voice properly. ‘I don’t care if he’s fucking—’ he racked his brain for an appropriate name, ‘—Mussolini, you don’t say shit like that to someone!’ he shouted. ‘Not to fucking anyone, you hear?’

‘But—but he’s just . . . I’m your friend!’ said Alan weakly.

‘So is he!’ said Dave, before he could stop himself, and suddenly all eyes were on him. ‘I mean . . . I’m sick of all this . . . this shit. I just, I don’t want to fight with people anymore.’

‘But . . . I . . . What?’ Incomprehension shone on Alan’s face.

‘You heard me!’ said Dave, his nerve returning. ‘I’ve been letting you get away with a lot of shit because you’re my friend, Alan, but you’ve crossed a line, okay? And it’s because you’re my friend I need to tell you that right now you’re being a complete and utter cunt!’

Alan looked like Dave had slapped him. He opened his mouth, as though he were about to argue, and promptly closed it again, staring down at his shoes, his face flushing bright crimson. ‘’M sorry,’ he mumbled.

‘Don’t apologise to me, apologise to him!’ said Dave hotly.

‘It . . . it’s okay,’ said Nick in a small voice, and they all turned to look at him. He stood off to the side, gaze fixed on the ground, arms around himself, and he looked so tiny and vulnerable and sad that Dave just wanted to hold him and kiss him and make everything better. ‘It’s fine.’

‘It fucking well is not!’ said Matt, outraged. ‘It is not fine or okay!’

‘No, it is, though. Don’t make a big deal, just . . . Just don’t.’

Dave approached Nick slowly and a bit cautiously. It was a strange new feeling to try to comfort him in public. In the end, he opted for putting a hand on his shoulder. ‘Nick,’ he said softly. ‘Come on. Let’s . . . let’s go inside, yeah?’

Nick nodded, but didn’t look at him. Dave suspected he didn’t trust himself to. It was difficult enough for Dave being this close to him without grabbing on for dear life. It must have been even harder for Nick, in his current state.

Dave put his arm around Nick’s shoulders and marched him into the school building. Matt fell into step on Nick’s other side, and Alan was left to stand staring at their retreating backs. Chas hung back too, hopefully, thought Dave, to speak to Alan. He would too, soon, but for now, Nick was far more important.

They walked down to the basement level, where there was rarely anyone about. Dave sat Nick down in the deserted stairwell and knelt before him, studying his face. Matt remained standing, looking up the staircase towards the ground floor as if daring Alan to follow them. He didn’t.

Nick’s head was bowed forward, his hands fisted in his trousers. A couple of silent tears dripped off the tip of his nose onto the black fabric, staining it darker. Dave wanted to put his arms around him, but was uncomfortably aware of Matt’s presence.

‘Matt,’ he said, quietly. ‘Think you could go get some tissue paper or something? Maybe water?’

‘Huh?’ Matt looked at him. ‘Oh, yeah. I’ll . . . be right back.’ He sauntered up the stairs.

The minute he was gone, Dave put his arms around Nick, holding him tightly. Nick released a sob, and then pulled a few shuddering breaths. Dave pulled back again, studied his teary grey eyes, and pressed a quick, hard kiss to his lips.

‘I am so sorry,’ he said emphatically, taking Nick’s hand.

Nick gave a strangled laugh. ‘What are you sorry about? You’re not responsible for him.’

‘Maybe not, but . . . I can’t fucking believe he’d actually say that.’

‘He’s hurting. As with everything else, he’s just lashing out.’

‘How can you be so calm about it?’

Nick sighed, rubbing his eyes. ‘Because I’m used to dealing with bullies. I know what they’re like, I know what they do. I know how they work. The harder things are for them, the meaner they get.’

Dave shook his head, staring in earnest admiration. ‘You know, you’re the kindest, bravest person I know.’ He heard footsteps approaching and let go of Nick’s hand. A moment later, Matt appeared with a bottle of water and a wad of tissues. He handed them to Nick, who looked up at him and smiled.

‘Thank you.’

‘No worries,’ said Matt, sitting down on the stair next to him. ‘You okay?’

‘Yeah,’ said Nick. ‘I’ll be fine. Alan’s just . . . He’s an idiot.’

‘You shouldn’t make excuses for him.’

‘I know. I’m not. But I shouldn’t have let him get to me.’

Matt smiled and put a comforting hand on Nick’s arm, and for a moment Dave felt very jealous and thought that Matt had better not get any ideas.

‘Break’s almost over,’ said Dave quietly. He glanced at Nick again, resisting the urge to touch. ‘What are you going to do?’

Nick sighed. ‘I think I’ll just go home. I . . . I shouldn’t have come in today. It’s not like I have the attention span to learn anything, anyway.’

Dave nodded. ‘It’s probably for the best,’ he agreed. ‘I should go find Alan.’

‘Oh, fuck Alan!’ said Matt, angrily. ‘Let him stew.’

Dave shook his head. ‘I can’t. I have to—He can be better than this, I know it.’

‘More than a decade of friendship . . . not easily forgotten, really,’ Nick supplied. ‘I get it. But . . . Thanks, both of you, for standing up for me. It was good of you.’

‘No, it wasn’t,’ said Dave. ‘It was the only decent thing to do.’

* * *

Lessons had already resumed by the time Dave found Alan outside. He was sitting on a bench in a corner of the courtyard. His arms were folded protectively over his chest, hands tucked into his armpits, and his left leg was bouncing up and down in an agitated manner. Chas was standing opposite him, staring down at him in obvious frustration, while Alan resolutely refused to meet his gaze. Chas looked up at Dave’s approach and, throwing his hands up exasperatedly, said, ‘You talk to him. I’m done.’ Then he walked away, leaving Dave and Alan alone.

‘What the hell was that?’ Dave asked Alan, feeling angry again.

‘Piss off!’ was all he got for a reply.

‘Alan—’

‘Look, I get it, all right?’ Alan snapped. ‘I was out of order, can’t say shit like that, blah, blah, blah. Message fucking received. What else do you want?’ He stared resolutely down at the ground.

Dave folded his arms across his chest and nodded. ‘Okay,’ he said. ‘Will you apologise to Nick?’

Alan’s head snapped up and he stared incredulously. ‘Apolo—No, I sodding well will not apologise to Nick! Since when is he Nick?’

‘Since right now!’ Dave responded, his voice gaining an edge again. ‘I’m . . . I’m so bloody sick of it, Alan. All of it. Truth is—’ He hesitated. Part of him wanted to say, to hell with it, tell him everything, get it out in the open, be done with it all. But he couldn’t do that. Not yet. Not now. ‘Truth is we’ve actually been friends for a while now. I just . . . didn’t know how to tell you, or anyone.’ It sounded lame, rehearsed, fake, like a line from a movie.

‘Well, fuck you, then,’ said Alan, looking away. ‘You’d think that’s the sort of development you’d share with your best mate!’

‘I’d think my best mate wouldn’t be this much of a dickhead!’ Dave retorted darkly. ‘You’re better than this, Alan. You’ll come round.’ He turned to leave.

‘Wait!’ said Alan, and Dave looked back over his shoulder. Alan stared at him, his expression unreadable. He worked his jaw and swallowed several times, but whatever he’d been meaning to say, he didn’t seem able to get it out.

Dave had known Alan for a long time, though. He could hazard a guess. ‘I’m not abandoning you,’ he said softly. ‘If you need me . . .’ He left it implied.

Alan scoffed and looked away again. ‘Don’t be gay!’ he muttered. Dave ignored him and left.

Chas was waiting for him by the entrance to the school. ‘How’d it go?’ he asked. Dave noted that his accent had inexplicably changed, from faux Brixton to watered down Black Country.

‘He’ll come round,’ Dave repeated, more for his own benefit than anything else. ‘He’s just . . . stubborn.’

‘Tell me about it.’ Chas stuck his hands in his pockets and puffed up his cheeks, blowing out a sigh. Dave studied his face curiously.

‘You’ve turned out to have hidden depths,’ he said eventually. ‘Who are you and what’ve you done with Chas the Chav?’

Chas glanced at him, one eyebrow cocked. ‘Can’t a bloke have layers?’ he asked. Then he smiled wanly. ‘I know you guys think I’m stupid. I don’t mind. Makes life . . . simple. When people don’t expect anything from me. Most people never bother to look past what’s on the outside. But,’ he extracted his hands from his pockets and stood up straight, ‘today’s a day for surprises. If you can grow a heart, I can grow a brain. All we need now is courage for Alan. Anyway, maybe it’s time people start taking me seriously. Starting with you.’

‘I’m sorry,’ said Dave.

Chas shrugged. ‘Not your fault. I’ve never given you a reason to think I’m any different.’

‘Well, now I know.’

‘Now you know,’ Chas agreed. ‘Don’t go spreadin’ it round, though. Got a reputation to maintain, innit?’ He grinned, the same old silly grin, but for the first time Dave recognised a keen intelligence in those pale blue eyes.

* * *

Dave went over to Nick’s house after school that day, to check on him. He found him curled up on his bed, listening to some of the saddest music Dave had ever heard.

‘Hey,’ said Dave, sitting down on the bed and stroking his hair.

‘Hey,’ said Nick. His voice was quiet and flat. He looked like he’d been crying, his eyes red and puffy.

‘Who are you listening to?’ asked Dave.

‘Tom McRae,’ said Nick.

‘He sounds sad.’

‘Yeah.’

Nick sat up a bit, looking at Dave. There was a question in his eyes, but he seemed to hesitate.

‘What is it?’ Dave prompted gently.

‘I . . .’ Nick looked away. ‘I think I’d like to read the note now.’

Dave nodded. ‘Okay. Where is it?’

‘Downstairs. Kitchen. Zoë put it on the shelf above the hob.’

Dave nodded again. ‘I’ll get it.’

He found the note where Nick had said it would be. It was written on a lined sheet of A5 paper, folded once, the words To Nick and Zoë written on the front.

He walked up the stairs slowly, carrying the note almost reverently. He knocked once before going back into Nick’s room. His boyfriend was sitting just where he’d left him, staring straight ahead.

‘Are you sure you want to do this?’ asked Dave as he sat down.

Nick shook his head. ‘No. But I’m going to anyway.’

‘Has Zoë read it?’ asked Dave.

‘I think so. We haven’t talked about it.’

Dave licked his lips and looked away. Then he took a deep breath and handed the note to Nick.

Nick only looked at it for a few moments. Then he reached out, hesitantly, and took the note from him. He unfolded it. His eyes moved across the page as he read, his face going red and his eyes filling up with tears. Then he handed the note back to Dave. ‘Read it,’ he said, expression oddly blank. Dave did as he was bid.

My dear children,

I am so sorry. I know these words won’t mean anything to you, after everything that’s happened, but I want you to know that I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I haven’t been a mother to you. I’m sorry that I haven’t looked after you. I’m sorry that I’ve been nothing but a burden on my family for the past four years.

It is my hope that, in doing this, I set you free. I’ll be in a better place, and you won’t have to worry about me. I know you do worry, because you’re beautiful, good people. Better than I. Certainly better than your father. So I want you to be free. I want you both to live.

Zoë, as soon as you’re able I want you to go back to uni, get your education, do what you were meant to do.

And Nick, hearing you sing and play has always made me happier than I can possibly say. Never stop! You have a god-given talent, a gift.

I know my decision won’t make any sense to you. I know it isn’t rational. And I’m not asking you to forgive me. I would never expect you to do that. But I want you both to know that I love you.

I want you both to live.

Dave didn’t realise that he was crying until one of his teardrops hit the paper. He looked up, blinking away the tears. Let the note fall to the floor and put his arms around Nick, hugging him hard. Nick sobbed into his shoulder, his breathing coming in sudden, quick bursts. Then his body shook and he seemed to give himself over to it, letting the tears come without reservation. Dave stroked his hair and murmured soothing words.

They must have sat like that for several minutes, ten, perhaps even twenty. Dave couldn’t be certain. At last, Nick pulled away a little. His face was splotchy, his nose red. Dave thought fleetingly that Nick must be the only person in the world who still looked beautiful even when his cheeks were stained with tears and his upper lip coated in snot.

They didn’t talk about the note, but Dave could imagine how it had made Nick feel. If he had been angry with his mother before, it would be nothing to how he must feel about her now. But at the same time, reading the note seemed to have provided some form of catharsis, and something about Nick’s posture and the look in his eyes seemed lighter now, as though he’d let go of something.

Dave didn’t ask if he was okay. The question would have been redundant, as he was obviously not. Instead, he reached into his bag for a pack of tissues and handed some to Nick so he could wipe the tears from his face and blow his nose. Then he took Nick’s face in his hands.

‘Look at me,’ he said softly, and Nick did. ‘I love you.’

Then he kissed him, and Nick kissed him back fiercely. When they pulled apart, they steepled their foreheads together and Nick released a short laugh.

‘What?’ asked Dave, giving him another peck on the lips.

‘You know, I’m almost starting to believe you,’ said Nick.

‘I need to work harder, then,’ said Dave, smiling. ‘I love you,’ he said again, putting his arms around Nick and holding him close. ‘I love you.’

‘Not as much as I love you,’ came the muffled reply, and Dave slapped the back of his head playfully. ‘Ow!’ Nick complained.

‘That’s for doubting me! I have never, ever felt this way about anyone,’ said Dave, and then he repeated the three words again, several times, like a bad movie, but he didn’t care about that. He needed to get his point across. Now, more than ever, Nick needed to know that he was loved.

This time, Nick only nodded into his shoulder and said, ‘I love you, too.’

 * * *

Things were easier after that, and so much harder, too. They couldn’t suddenly appear to be best friends, but now, Dave and Nick could at least converse openly at school, though it made it that much more difficult not to appear too close. As such, they retained use of the space behind the shed, for quick, desperate kissing where no one could see them, and for the conversations that couldn’t be had elsewhere. It seemed to make everything a little easier for Nick, seemed to lift part of the load off his shoulders, and if it could do that, it was all worth it.

Dave had supposed it would only be a matter of time before news that they were friends reached his father, but after two weeks had passed and nothing had happened, it began to seem like he may have got away with it this time.

Two weeks was also almost precisely the amount of time it took for Alan to speak to him again.

‘Can I use your ruler?’ were the first five words offered. The four that followed, as Dave handed him the item in question, were, ‘I’ll leave Davis alone.’

‘Good,’ said Dave. He waited patiently as Alan drew the hypothenuse on his triangle.

Alan handed the ruler back to him and said, very quietly, ‘Could . . . Think you could tell him sorry for me?’

Dave took the ruler from him and replaced in onto his desk. He wanted to tell Alan to tell Nick himself, but thought better of it. No point in antagonising his best friend any further. ‘Yeah, all right,’ he said.

And that was that. Alan did not speak to Nick, and for the most part disappeared whenever the others were talking to him, but he seemed to grudgingly accept his presence, and kept his word. It was probably, Dave reasoned, the best case scenario. And things were okay for a while.